Post Battle
by Kissy Fishy
Summary: Merlin confesses his love for Morgana in a most terrible way. Rated T for language.


***Warning: Contains an iota of strong language***

Arthur was dreaming, and not exactly happily. His unconscious mind was reliving the earlier events of the day—or night. In his dream, he clutched Excalibur tightly, watching Morgana draw closer with her army of undead soldiers.

"Here," said Dream Merlin, handing him a crossbow.

Arthur accepted it, taking aim as around him his knights and soldiers banged their shields and rained arrows on the assaulting troops. Morgana's eyes were gold as she walked casually up to them, waving her arm and causing arrows and catapulted rocks to go astray. The king of Camelot had but one chance. He lifted the bow to his eye and aimed, right at Morgana's pale neck.

He let go.

With a sharp intake of breath, Arthur woke. He opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling, and found that the light hurt his eyes. Sighing, he let his lids close sleepily. He remembered being injured in the battle, explaining the pain in his leg and chest. Evidently he was in Gaius's makeshift infirmary. Even as he lay there, Arthur could hear the old man shuffling about, probably leaning over other patients or something.

Abruptly a new set of footsteps, hurried and stomping, entered the room. They continued until they were right by Arthur's bed, and there was a clattering of glass as whoever it was set an armful of vials on the table.

"Merlin, do keep quiet," Gaius requested.

Arthur opened his eyes slightly. Sure enough, Merlin was standing there, a cluster of vials on the table in front of him. His head was hanging, and he used the table for support. The servant gave a long sigh and scratched the back of his head. He then reached for one of the glass bottles, and in the process knocked another over. He made a desperate grab for it, but it rolled off the table and shattered.

Arthur suppressed a chuckle. How very Merlin.

"_Fuck!_" Merlin shouted angrily. Arthur frowned inwardly. That wasn't very Merlin.

Apparently, Gaius thought so too. He looked up from his patient and stared at him in shock. "What's the matter with you?" he wondered.

Merlin bowed his head. "Sorry," he murmured. He mumbled something that did not sound English, and there was a chiming sound. Merlin reached down and picked up the unbroken vial, placing it down hard on the table. "Fixed it."

Arthur gaped at his servant mentally. Had he just performed sorcery? _Merlin?_

Gaius made his way over to Merlin as the young man began sorting out the vials, setting each down with a little more force than necessary. "Are you all right?" the physician inquired, his tone full of concern. He placed his hand gently on Merlin's shoulder.

Surprisingly, he was thrown off with no small amount of rage. "Fine," snapped Merlin. He kept arranging the vials on the table, though his fingers shook and made the glass clatter against the wood and each other.

Arthur watched with fascination. He had always known Merlin was clumsy, but this was something else entirely. The servant was trying to hide his emotions. Was he upset? Or did he have a really bad case of post-battle nerves?

The king was inclined to think the latter, since this _was_ Merlin the coward, after all. But he remembered all their other fights, and Merlin had never shown trauma after _those._ Why was this one so different?

"Won't you tell me what's wrong?" Arthur watched Gaius cock his head as he looked at Merlin, hoping to be of some comfort to his apprentice.

Merlin did not respond and instead kept moving vials, although by this time Arthur was quite sure they were organized.

With one final look at Merlin, Gaius moved away to inspect another of his wards. Arthur kept observing Merlin through his half-closed eyes. Was his friend's lip trembling? Was his shaking getting worse?

Abruptly, Merlin dropped the glass in his hands to the table with a loud _thunk._ "I killed her," he said loudly.

Arthur's brow furrowed at this statement, but he quickly smoothed it out, lest they discover he was awake. Gaius had a similar expression on his face. "Sorry?" he said.

Merlin took a shuddering breath. "I… killed Morgana, Gaius," he declared.

Gently, Gaius shook his head and made his way back to his assistant. "No you didn't," he whispered consolingly. "Arthur killed her. His aim was true. You had no hand in this."

"Yes I did!" Merlin cried, and it was clear his resolve was breaking. "I… enchanted that _damned_ arrow. I gave it to Arthur. It would have found her even if he had turned his back on her." A tear escaped his eye. "_I_ killed her."

Gaius stared at him in shock, as did Arthur. _Merlin_ was the reason they won the battle? Thanks to witchcraft?

"You had to," Gaius told him softly. "She would have done—."

"I loved her."

The room went inconceivably quiet. Arthur desperately wanted Merlin to start playing with the bottles again, just to make _some_ noise.

"And what kind of person," Merlin choked as more tears slipped out, "does that make me? I _killed_ her. All because my destiny told me to." A sob made it past his lips, and Arthur hated the sound. Merlin should never, ever make that noise. It didn't suit him. "There are no words for what I am," he went on, and he gave a sick, shaky chuckle.

"Merlin—." Gaius broke off, mid-sentence, because he realized he did not know what to say. Arthur didn't either. There wasn't anything _to_ say.

"Merlin," Gaius tried again, sounding more confident, "it never would have worked. She was always meant to oppose you."

"I could have changed that," Merlin breathed shakily, his fists clenching. "I could have swayed her, made her see the light. Maybe she…" He swallowed nervously. "Maybe she felt the same way."

Gaius blinked at him, completely at a loss. Arthur was the same. "You cannot fight destiny," the old man said knowingly.

"I've never _tried!_" Merlin shouted, making both Arthur and Gaius jump.

Silence fell over them again, tense and awkward. Arthur wondered if he ought to 'wake up' now, just to break the mood, but Merlin began talking again.

"She'll never forgive me," he said quietly, and his tears fell more freely. "Not ever. Even if I... if I somehow meet her in the afterlife, she won't forgive me." Merlin took another shuddering breath. "I wish she had killed me instead," he whispered.

Gaius hesitated. "I wish I knew what to say," he stated in a low voice.

"I wish someone else were me," Merlin replied equally. "Someone heartless and more fitting for the role of the most powerful sorcerer ever." He wiped his cheeks sloppily and gave a shaky sigh. "I'm tired," he declared.

Gaius nodded. "Get some rest. I can manage."

Merlin forced a smile, sniffling. "See you later," he choked, and he fled the room.

* * *

The next time Arthur woke up, Merlin was arranging breakfast on the table by his bed. He glanced at him and grinned widely. "Good morning!" he said cheerily.

Arthur yawned and sat up, feeling surprisingly rested. "Good morning," he replied. Miraculously, all his pain from his battle wounds had dissipated. "Wow, I feel fantastic," he stated.

"That's Gaius!" Merlin explained. "His potions do wonders."

Arthur nodded in agreement as Merlin poured his drink. "So, you're a sorcerer," he said conversationally. Merlin's fingers slipped and he dropped the jug to on the table, spilling its contents everywhere. Arthur folded his arms and gave his servant a knowing look. "Tell me all about it."

***Like? Love? Despise? I'd enjoy knowing.***


End file.
